


Scar Tissue

by MzMarbles



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Backstory, Family Relationships - Freeform, Gen, Siblings, Whump, diego's scar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 10:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17979398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MzMarbles/pseuds/MzMarbles
Summary: How the hell did Diego get that epic scar? A few years before Sir Reggie kicks the bucket. Set after they've all left the house and Luther has left the planet. One shot.





	Scar Tissue

Diego had tried doing things the right way. Having grown up as a superhero had made it easy to get into the police academy, but having grown up as a superhero made staying in incredibly difficult. Becoming a cop had always seemed like the next logical step. He could still catch the bad guys, he just didn’t get to throw any knives at them.

And it wasn’t as though he didn’t have any other skills to offer. He knew how to ask the right questions. He cared, not just about nabbing the assholes on the street, but he looked out for the victims too. He wasn’t a superhero anymore, but that didn’t mean he cared any less about protecting those that couldn’t protect themselves.

He didn’t need the police academy or the other one either. He was doing just fine on his own. He had work that was simple enough and not demanding. He had a place to stay, and as long as he kept the place clean and won the few fights he volunteered for, the boxing club was as good as “home”. If not better.

The vigilante side gig wasn’t so bad, he cleaned up the streets just as well as the floor at the gym. There was little doubt which one he enjoyed more.

It had been a long night, long and “productive”. He had managed to stay just ahead of the police on his rounds. The mask would only go so far as a disguise. Eudora knew what he was up to, and she was a rookie cop by now. She only needed to arrest the assholes he incapacitated, not him. So far he’d managed to put down a mugger in the park, two punks trying to rob a corner store, stopped a break and enter, and a prick in the park who didn’t understand the word NO. Diego hadn’t needed the police scanner for that one. The bastard didn’t get arrested, but he sure took a punishment.

The radio on his belt crackled slightly and he cocked an ear to listen, pausing on his way back to the car. Instead of catching the code he heard something familiar. The smack of a fist and someone familiar from an alley a few doors down.

“Rocco, I can get you the money, I swear.” He said. “C’mon you know I’m good for it.”

Klaus. It’d been a while since Diego had heard that voice. He’d just assumed Klaus had been wallowing in the depths of whatever drug-induced haze he could find for the last year. Diego had looked into the calls over the radio for overdoses, but none of them had been his brother. By the sounds of it, Klaus had definitely resurfaced and was desperate to plunge himself back under.

“You still owe for the past week,” presumably Rocco said. Diego heard the unmistakeable grunt of a fist to the gut. “No more freebies. Time to pay your tab Klaus.”

Diego slipped a knife from the sheath at his thigh and rounded the corner quietly and quickly to take in the scene before dodging back around the wall. It was definitely Klaus, no mistaking that scrawny kid and ridiculous coat. Two thugs, twice Klaus’ size, one bald (Presumably Rocco), the other fat. Both looked like they could use a lesson in picking on someone their own size. Or someone Diego’s size…

The first knife preceded Diego around the corner it snagged the sleeve of Presumably Rocco’s coat and pinned it to the brick wall behind him before he could lay another hand on his brother. That just left the Fat one who stood stunned for a moment with a knife of his own, a sad, dull little switch blade. Pudgy fingers shook around the handle as he advanced on Klaus.

Did they even know who they were dealing with right now?

Diego closed the gap between himself and the Fat One in a few quick strides, disarming the man easily with one hand, but he didn’t see the meaty right hook and it knocked him off his balance for just a second. Sloppy, he thought, licking the blood from his lip.

A quick knee to the gut and a one-two combination sent The Fat One staggering back a bit. Diego heard the scrape of his knife being freed from the brick wall, impressive. He slipped another blade from its sheath and threw it over his shoulder toward Presumably Rocco, There was a squelch and a grunt as the blade landed perfectly in the man’s shoulder. He wouldn’t be pulling that one out if he was smart.

The Fat One was coming back for more and received a head butt for his trouble.

“Watch out!” Klaus shouted.

Diego had barely turned his head when Presumably Rocco, who barely flinched, took the blade outwith his other hand and threw it back. And this was when Diego once again learned the hard way that he could only control what _he_ threw, anything thrown at him was as good as deadly.

Diego swung wild with his left to push Klaus down and out of the way, he arched back to avoid the knife, but Presumably Rocco hadn’t missed. Diego was meticulous about the sharpness of his blades so he barely felt the knife slice just above his ear. He turned his head just in time to see the glint of street lights on the metal as it sailed past and landed with a clatter against the opposite wall.

Klaus screamed. It was what he seemed best at lately. That and getting high.

Diego stumbled backwards, fumbling at the gash on his face and for the mask that had snapped off, and hit the ground hard, his head smacking the concrete with a flash. The Fat One and Presumably Rocco were on him in seconds, burying their heavy boots in is gut, his ribs. Anywhere they could find a vulnerable spot.

He managed to reach for one more knife, but then they all heard the siren. Some concerned citizen had probably heard Klaus’ screaming and called 911. None of them wanted to be around when the cops arrived and Diego found a reprieve, but he didn’t get up. Not just yet and Klaus was having none of it.

“Christ! Diego, I’ve never been happier to see you in action, but we need to go. Like five minutes ago,” he said gathering the knives. He tried, unsuccessfully, to pull Diego from the pavement. “Get up! Come onnnnn, why do you have to be so fucking heavy?!”

Diego groaned and pushed himself away from the ground slowly, slowly taking a mental inventory of the damage. He could still see out both eyes, though there was a lot of blood in one of them. Cracked ribs, one possibly two. And he’d be pissing blood for a day at least. Klaus took one arm and did his best to drag Diego out of the alley, frantically looking for the swirling lights of cruisers and found none.

“Car,” Diego said and listed towards it. Klaus followed to keep him from tumbling back to the pavement.

“Right, car.” Klaus said as they approached it. “The hospital is only a couple blocks away, but I can’t drag your heavy ass all the way.”

“No hospital,” he said and fished the keys from his pocket. “Take me home.”

“What are you, mad? You’re bleeding all over the place.”

“Fine, I’ll drive myself,” he said and tried to hobble toward the other side.

Klaus let Diego flop against the side of the car and opened the passenger door and rolled Diego towards the seat. “I might be a bit high right now, but I’m not delusional. Get in the car.”

 

The car screeched to a halt, Diego lurched forward painfully. Holding his breath through the ride had helped him hurt less, but the hard stop undid all of that. He looked about with his good eye. This wasn’t home.

“This isn’t my home,” he said.

“You weren’t specific,” Klaus shouted darting out the door and around to the passenger side. “And I don’t know where you live. Come on, upsy-daisy.” He pulled and heaved on one of Diego’s arms, but he wouldn’t budge.

Diego promised himself he wouldn’t set foot in this damn house again. He promised.

“Take me home asshole.”

“I’m not stitching you up and neither are you. Come on, I’m not built for schlepping your surly, jacked ass around. Move. Please?”

Behind the hand clutching at the wound on his head, Diego smiled.

“I’m tired, please just get out of the car? We’ll be sneaky about it, we can swear mom to secrecy. It’ll be great. Like old times.”

Diego sighed, and it hurt. He got out of the car.

 

The basement entrance meant they were far less likely to run into the man who called himself their father, but it was just a bit farther from the infirmary than Diego would have liked. It also meant sneaking past Pogo’s quarters, but he and Klaus managed to disturb no one en route.

Klaus sat Diego on the exam table and ran to find Grace - Mom. Diego eyed the supplies in the cabinet and along the shelf. Maybe it was the blood loss and the concussion, but maybe he could patch this up himself and be on his way. Maybe. He slid off the table and started rifling through the supplies for what he needed.

“Diego dear, let me help you.”

He turned, painfully. “Mom?”

She hadn’t changed one bit. Of course she hadn’t, and she hadn’t stopped calling him dear either. She took the supplies from his hand and guided him back to the table and he went. He hated everything about this house, except for her. She who had always been kind, always cared. She was a weakness and when she pushed him gently to lay down, she met no resistance. She was calm and calming and got straight to work inspecting the wound and checking for other injuries. He did his best not to flinch, but ultimately failed. She smiled and stopped prodding and then turned to the cabinet.

“I want you to close your eyes Diego,” she said with her back turned to him.

“What? Why?” He said and tried to sit up. Klaus tried to push him back down.

“Chill big guy, maybe close your eyes and nap or something.” Klaus said and looked over at their mother. “We got this. Right, Mom?”

Mom returned with a tray full of supplies that she kept out of sight. She began to wipe away the blood. “Diego dear, this will be much easier for all of us if you could just close your eyes for me. Please?”

Diego stared at the under side of the tray. He knew why she wanted him to close his eyes. He didn’t like it. He shouldn’t have to, maybe this time he’d be fine. He could take it, he’d been through much worse. But she continued to smile down at him, waiting for him to give in.

“Klaus, darling why don’t you have a seat with that ice pack and I’ll see to you once I’m done here?”

She smiled once more and he finally closed his eyes. There was no point, he knew what was coming so he held his breath and waited for what felt like forever, braced for impact. And when nothing happened, he cracked an eye open. And there it was, sharp and shining under the light and probably not as big as it appeared.

His eyes shut again, heavily.

“Oh, Diego,” was the last thing he remembered her saying.

 

And then Klaus was struggling to hold him upright under his arms which felt like lead weights and something was winding its way around his chest. He couldn’t feel half of his face, and he had a good vantage point to see the black eye his brother was sporting.

“Ow.”

Klaus took note that Diego was awake again and let up a bit on his desperate grip. “You should see the other guy,” he replied.

Diego chuckled and regretted it. He felt … funny. Like his head was full of cotton, his arms felt like they weighed a couple hundred pounds each. His sweater shifted back down and he felt the world tip backwards as Klaus let go and hands guided him back to the table that he almost immediately tried to roll off of. He didn’t want to stay here any longer. Mother’s grip was always soft, but she could be firm when required. He stayed put.

“It’s okay Diego dear,” Mother said unfolding a blanket over him. “You should rest.”

“Nnnn. Nnnnno. I have to go. I feel w-w-weird.”

“It’s okay. I gave you a little something for the pain.” Mom said, one hand on the cheek that he could feel. “You need to stay right where you are.”

He shook his head, no it was only a matter of time before that asshole they called father found him down here and began a lecture he had no interest in hearing. He knew Klaus wouldn’t be able to stop him from leaving, but mother and whatever she’d doped him with might. He just wanted to go back his shoddy apartment in the basement of the gym and sleep in his own bed. He wanted to be anywhere but here. An actual hospital or jail would be better than this.

“If you’re worried about Father Dearest, don’t worry he’s already been here,” Klaus said as if he was reading Diego’s mind. “I took the full brunt of the lecture on how much of a disappointment we both are. I think we’re even now. So you might as well take mother’s advice. Maybe try to enjoy the high while you can.”

Diego squinted up at Klaus. Is this how he felt all the time? How did he function like this? He reached up to assess the damage to his face. He could see out both eyes, but one of them seemed obstructed. There was a lot of gauze taped to his head. Mother gently pulled his hand away and set it down at his side. She pulled the heavy blanket up all the way and he didn’t seem to have the strength or coordination to escape it.

“When you feel better I’ll make special pancakes for you both.” She said and then disappeared through the doorway as though she had no doubts that her instructions would be followed. It was almost painful how oblivious she was sometimes, but her relentless kindness was hard to resist.

“Take me home Klaus,” he said and tried to free himself from the blanket once more. He was trying for defiance, but really just looked pathetic. It was exhausting.

“What? No, when was the last time you had mom’s pancakes? With the little smiley faces on them? Come on, man. I’m hungry.”

“Fine, I’ll go without you,” he said and finally found himself sitting upright. “Give me my keys, where are my knives?”

“In the car. Jesus, Diego you can hardly sit up or stand, you can’t drive.”

“You drove me here, isn’t this what you feel like all the time?”

“I wish. I’m used to it.” Klaus said and swooped in to catch Diego as he slid off the table and pitched forward. “Okay, if you’re going to be a drama queen about it, I’ll take you home.”

Diego looked at him and almost frowned, the other eyebrow didn’t seem to work.

“Ugh, why do you hate fun so much?” And maneuvered himself under Diego’s arm and guided him out and back to the car. “I really wanted those pancakes.”

 

“Love the digs, Diego,” Klaus snarked as they hobbled down the peeling poster-lined hall to Diego’s door. “It has all the charming ambiance of a hole in the ground.”

Diego fumbled with the keys, but found the right one and eventually slotted it into the lock. There were only a hand full of stairs and a few more meters to his bed and then hopefully some blessed fucking silence once he sent Klaus on his way again. Diego was tuning out Klaus’ commentary on the decor and focused on the bed in the corner. Why had he put it so far away from the door?

“…I can’t pretend I’m shocked that this where you live,” he said. Dropping Diego on the side of the bed and then having a gander around. “Hey, you’re boxing? I thought you were just mopping the floors. Kicking people’s asses on the street isn’t enough for you?”

Diego let himself sag into the mattress and grunted, swinging his legs up on to it.

“It’s a job, it pays my bills you should look into doing that some day.”

Klaus pulled a bottle from his pocket and cracked it open. “One. Two. Okay three for me, the rest for you. No one in that house will be needing them. Mom doesn’t need pain killers and I’m certain that dear old dad has no feelings whatsoever so… you’re welcome, I guess.”

Diego eyed the bottle. No, he wanted to stay sharp once the brain fog wore off. But he wasn’t about to let Klaus take the whole bottle with him.

“Thanks. You gotta do one more thing before you go Klaus.”

“I have to go? There’s gratitude for you.”

“I saved your life, again.”

“Fair. What are your wishes?” Klaus said and sat on the side of the bed. Diego shifted to avoid him without making anything else hurt more than it already did. The walk from the car had been exhausting and his eyelids were getting heavy again, and his arms still felt like lead. Words were getting harder to find.

“Can you mmm mmmm make the boots go?”

Klaus looked around at Diego’s big black boots sticking out from under the blanket and then back again and then started pulling on the laces. “You’re sort of adorable when you’re high Diego. Do you have anything to eat?”

 

There was nothing for a while. Not even dreams, nothing that made sense anyway. When he woke a good deal of the fog and mental cotton had disappeared. Everything hurt and he could feel his whole face again, but he wasn’t willing to trade it in for whatever the pain medication could offer. Not just yet, he wasn’t alone and he didn’t even need to crack open an eye to know that it wasn’t Klaus.

He casually reached for one of the knives he kept tucked between the mattress and the frame, listening for where the intruder might be, they sighed. They were at the desk. He readied to throw and opened his eyes. And immediately dropped the knife.

“Christ, Diego!” She exclaimed. “It’s just me.”

“‘Dora?” She was out of uniform, so he was at least sure she wasn’t here to arrest him.

“Geez, Diego look at you,” she said and sat on the side of the bed, her fingers traced the bandage on his head, light as a feather. “I’m not sure I want to know what happened this time. But it does explain this.”

She pulled an evidence bag from inside her jacket, his bloody mask was sealed inside it. He reached for it, but she pulled it well out of his reach.

“You can’t keep doing this, Diego. You put a man in the hospital.”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” She sighed and looked at the ceiling. She was losing patience and he knew it. He forced himself to sit up. “That asshole had it coming, shaking people down for money. I just made him easier to catch. You’re welcome.”

She just glared at him. Okay so this was not his best charm, he was tired and everything hurt. He reached for her hand. She didn’t pull it away. It was something.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Diego.” She said. “What if next time it’s you in the hospital? Probably should have been by the looks of you.”

“I’ll be fine, ‘Dora. You don’t have to worry about me. I was a superhero, remember?”

“But you’re not a superhero any more. You’re a vigilante at best. I’m not worried about you Diego, you can take care of yourself, clearly. But I can’t keep covering for you. I could lose my job. I’ve worked so hard to get this far. It’s important to me.”

“More important than me? Us? More important than doing something about the assholes that get away?”

“You’re impossible.” She said. She pulled her hand free and started to pace. “You know what I mean. You can’t take the law into your own hands and you know it.”

“And _you_ know I can’t just stop. And I’m good at this, it’s what I know. Ww-what else am I supposed to do?”

“What else are you supposed to do? You could have been a good cop for starters. Or you could just try living a normal life for once. You walked out of that house and away from that family, that life, but you just can’t seem to stop acting like you’ve never left.”

“‘Dora,” he started and reached out a hand to her, to draw her closer. She just stared at it the invitation, the debate in her mind was obvious.

“No, Diego. I can’t. I’m sorry,” she said and put the evidence bag on the desk. She looked at him with sad eyes. Dammit not the sad eyes, he thought. “I’m done. Take care of yourself Diego.” She said and walked out the door.


End file.
